


Mutilated Hearts

by LightningClawedSky



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Alternate Universe, Disassociation, Hospitals, M/M, Makeup, Self-Harm, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-05 22:55:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18838465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningClawedSky/pseuds/LightningClawedSky
Summary: 777 hasn't been feeling the same since his fight with Sho. The broken pieces of his heart are heavy in his chest, and he can barely function as a person, and despite the support from his best friends, the singer eyes old self harm habits as a way to cope, but things get taken too far...





	Mutilated Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for outofyourvector on tumblr for our AU where Sho and Def Märch are alive, and Sho is part of the band.
> 
> Suggested that you read "Glass Hearts" first.
> 
> Unedited as always.

The person who stared back at him in the mirror wasn't himself. Matted, knotted clumps of previously silky soft hair we're all over his head; his tired eyes having years added to them. It just wasn't what people knew the icon of youth to be. There was no more spunk, no more defiance, just a sad and tired defeat. It wasn't ‘  _ Triple Seven _ . ‘

He couldn't look any longer, splashing water on his face and turning his back to the mirror. 777 didn't leave the bathroom, however. He rubbed his wrists, bad ideas of supposedly  _ broken _ habits trickling back into his mind. It would be a  _ lie _ to say he tried to fight it. He didn't, he fell right back into it like a puzzle suddenly falling into place.

 

The flick of a blade of a pocket knife.

Cool metal pressing against hot skin.

A shaky sigh.

He pressed down, gently and slow at first, unsure of what his next move would be. The scars from years prior stared back, mocking him through the tattoos he had gotten out of shame.  _ They itched so much.  _ He should have been better, he shouldn’t have been doing this. He knew this, and yet, he continued, a blank look in his eyes as he gradually lost himself to the familiar euphoric sensation of inner pain being physically released.

One. Two. Three. Five. Seven. Twelve.  _ How many was it now? _

Each time, the blade cut into his flesh more raggedly, less careful, more angrily and reckless. The pent up self hatred built over the years spilling through, a broken heart wailing at the center of it all. 777’s face was scrunched up in a silent anger at everything, but most importantly, himself. Why did he always have to pretend it was fine when he wasn't fine? Why didn't he just apologize right away and continue from there?  _ GOD _ _ , why was he like this? _

One arm. Two arms.  _ So many cuts. _

He stared at his arms, dazed. His mangled arms, cut through veins, the red gushing from his arms and into the sink-- none of it registered. Eyes were seeing, but the brain wasn’t receiving the information given; everything was disassociating and nothing felt real. The rush this was giving him was more addicting than any alcohol he ever drank, or any drug he ever did. He was so  _ dependant _ on the blade in the past; he thought he broke that habit-- but bad habits never truly break for the broken, bad people. 

_ Drip. _

_ Drip _ .

Eyes widened as he felt the warm droplets of the crimson fluid on his barefoot. There was a snap back to reality, as he stared down at his shaking hands, still clutching the knife as if it was his lifeline. 777 was falling from his temporary high as horror gripped him and his hands began to shake, tears welling in his eyes. Blood was gushing down his arms, onto the sink, onto the floor.  _ Oh god, there was so much blood. _ The horror of it all, the choked sob and fear in response. How was this a good idea? What kind of sadness had taken and tossed him so low to the point where the only release was to mutilate his own flesh?

“ _ Shooooo _ …” He wailed, through choking tears. 777’s legs crumpled beneath him and he cried out, repeating that single name over and over again. Shaking hands held his head, blood smearing in his hair, sticking it in every which direction. Stupid, stupid,  _ stupid!  _ He should have dropped the habit; he should have known better by now! He told himself that he wouldn't cut anymore, especially not over a  _ person _ \-- and yet, here he was, crying on the floor, bleeding out and still clutching the knife. He looked at the metal in his shaking hand for a moment, before throwing it into the wall with a scream, droplets of his blood flying across the bathroom.

777’s thoughts were racing, trampling over each other. Why did Sho have to be so  _ addicting?  _ Why did Sho have to mean so much to him? Why did he have to be more than a person for 777; happiness, hope, everything that 777 always wanted. Sho was amazing and so much more than just “a person.” It brought a pained smile remembering the fondness the singer still had for him. It was stupid,  _ Sho _ was stupid. His own  _ feelings _ were the most stupid of them all, dammit! 

He let out another scream of frustration. 777 felt so weak, so useless, like a newborn animal running around relying on the ones around them for love and support. That's exactly what he was doing to Sho before; he relied  _ so much _ on him because he felt lost and never considered how Sho even felt about it, if Sho even felt anything in even a  _ similar _ way. Did Sho feel just as lost as 777 did? He didn't know, he  _ wasn't _ Sho.

There was a whine outside the locked door and many clicks of claws on the hardwood as 777’s dog paced outside. Dogs were empathetic. They knew when something was wrong, when emotions weren't the way they were supposed to be. There was pawing under the door and the dog sat, whining eventually growing into a small howl before a full blown bark of increasing worry.

Tenho appeared almost instantly in the doorway, his mouth moving but no words reaching 777’s ears. If 777’s scream didn't send him running fast enough down the hallway, the frantic barking of Spike did. Everything was such an numbing silence, that the rocker didn't even hear his dog barking outside of the bathroom door, grabbing the attention of his two friends downstairs. 777 felt shame washing over him, shutting his eyes so he couldn't see Tenho wrapping towels around his arms to soak up some of the blood. He felt vulnerable and gross; it was absolutely  _ disgusting _ .

Tenho managed to help him up and was guiding 777 down the hall, letting the singer lean on him for support. His heartbeat was beginning to slow down slightly, and along with it, he could hear snippets of Tenho’s softly spoken words of reassurance. 

“... Seven…”

“It's gonna...okay…”

“Please... alright?”

“...breathe…”

His dogs barking finally reached his ears, and the singer mumbled a “Stay,” in response as he stumbled, only to be greeted with a whine. Spike sat. His eyes shone with concern, but he listened. He stayed. He was a good boy.

777 was not entirely sure what happened next. He forced a smile at the black dots that danced across his vision. He probably passed out, the adrenaline and shock leaving him alone and exhausted. During the ride he drifted in and out of consciousness and when he got to the emergency room, he could clearly hear Tenho demanding for help as soon as possible.

Blood was getting all over the floor through the soaked towels. An old lady was horrified. Tenho and BJ were also horrified, but less about the blood and more about  _ what _ their best friend did to himself. 777 just smiled, in a grim acceptance, just as his legs collapsed from under him and he fell to the ground.

\---

When the singer awoke, opening up blurry eyes, he didn't know where he was or how he got there. Groggily sitting up, he looked around, spotting Tenho and BJ talking in a corner, not quite noticing that he woke up. Coming to his senses, he looked down at his arms, feeling them itch intensely. 777 instantly felt nauseous at the sight of the bandages on his arm, a few spots of blood soaking through. He wanted to rip the IV needle out of his arm and run out of the hospital, he wanted to--

“Hey,” Tenho greeted, snapping 777 out of his overwhelming thoughts and walking to the side of hospital bed, resting a hand on the railing and smiling softly. BJ stood behind him, bandana pulled up as usual but his eyes were etched with worry. “How're you feelin’?”

777’s eyes glanced over to the empty chair beside the bed, half hoping he'd see a certain person once again. He felt his heart sink. Tenho peered in the same direction as his friend, before turning back his head, grimacing as confirmed 777’s gut feelings. It was like a bad dream that you never woke up from. “He's not here.”

“I wouldn't want him back anyways,” BJ growled, crossing his arms. “He isn't welcomed back here; not after this. He hurt you so much, Sev…” 

“ _ Beej _ , just drop it for now, okay?” Tenho placed his hand on the shoulder of the drummer, tilting his head in 777’s direction. It wasn't the time for grudges and bitterness. They  _ had _ to take care of their friend.

777 looked away, the frown on his face evident. He was clearly not in the mood to speak about how he was feeling, let alone talk about Sho. He laid back down, pulling the crisp white sheets over his shoulder. 777 looked at the empty seat, before turning himself over, facing the curtain that divided the room.

Tenho and BJ shared a worried glance, but said nothing and decided to leave their friend sleep in peace. 

After making sure 777 was out completely, Tenho gestured towards the door. “C'mon, we should get supper before places start to close. Let's get take out, so we can still eat with Sev.”

\---

The next day wasn't easier for anyone. 777 picked at his food, plastic fork trying to haphazardly stab a carrot slice with little success. He let out a sigh, putting the fork down and pushing it to the side.

“Not that hungry, huh?” Tenho asked, a soft smile on his lips like a mother caring for a wounded child who just happened to be a picky eater. 

777 didn't speak, just shook his head slightly and looked out the window, head resting gently on his hand, careful not to put too much pressure on his arm just in case his wounds would open up again. 

“Hey, it's okay. You ate a lil’ but, so that's something! It's hospital food, so it wouldn't surprise me if you didn't have an appetite for it!” Tenho felt bad about forcing the optimism into his voice. He felt like he had to stay strong for all of them.

Even Sho, despite him not being there.

777 looked at his wrists, scowling at the fresh bandages. This morning he had torn through the gauze because of how much the newly formed scabs were itching, picking at them behind raised knees so BJ wouldn't see. His friend still caught on, and when Tenho found out about the incident he looked at 777 with such a hurt disappointment, the singer had to turn away. 

He had his two best friends with him, and yet he felt more lonely than he anytime prior in his life. Tears pricked his eyes, but he wiped them away with his free hand, scrunching his nose to suppress a sniffle. 

Once staring out the window was boring, he rested his head against the beds pillow once again, turning his attention to staring up at the white tiled ceiling.

_ I really hate hospital's, _ 777 thought bitterly to himself, eyes narrowing as he looked onwards at the white fluorescent lights.

777 thought about all the times he was sent to the hospital through his life this far. The first was falling from the top of the slide and breaking his left arm in elementary. The next might have been in middle school, though the details were fuzzy on that one. It might have been from a cooking accident.

Everything that happened in highschool, though? It was clear as day. In grade nine, he skipped class with his friend to climb to the top of the school when the two had started to bicker and 777 was pushed off the building, earning a broken jaw and a major concussion, but miraculously nothing else besides a severely sprained wrist. His hand rose to his face, fingers gently pressing his jaw in thought. 

The fights he endured, the stab wounds he got, the gunshot that  _ should _ have killed him- each scar along his back suddenly was aching from the memories washing over his mind. The part that ached the most was his stomach, guilt eating him alive as he thought about the kid  _ he _ sent the hospital, his name long gone from his memory, but the sickening crack of his ribs and the wheezing scream that followed the puncturing of a lung, it all replayed in 777’s head. The shock of hearing that the other died from his injuries. The injuries that 777 gave him. It made the singers head spin, knowing he was the cause of someone's death.

777 ran a hand through his hair, that was slowly becoming more matted and unkempt with every time he laid down. It was a frizzy mess with no volume or shine.

“Do you think he'll be okay?” 777 could hear Tenho talk to BJ in a hushed voice.

“We can only hope.” BJ answered. “We really can only hope.”

777 really was alone here, wasn't he? He pulled the pillow from under his head and used it to cover his ears, unwilling to overhear anymore of the exchange.

\---

By the third day, 777 still wasn't eating more than a couple of bites of food at a time.  _ Something _ was better than nothing, but Tenho and BJ wished their friend would eat just a  _ bit _ more, so 777 wouldn't accidentally starve himself. 777 on the other hand, wished that there was a TV in his room so he wouldn't be as bored as he was.

“Maybe we should go for a walk today!” Tenho suggested, “some movement and fresh air could be good for you!”

777 cracked his eyes open, glowering at Tenho out of the corner of them before adjusting his position in the bed to face away from his friend.

Tenho sighed, looking at BJ and shrugging. Normally BJ would pull 777’s ear and demand he got his lazy ass out of bed, but things were  _ different _ here. 777 was different.

BJ walked out of the room, Tenho in tow.

“He's not getting up besides to go take a shit,” BJ grumbled. “Forget ‘im actually getting up to do exercises for a nurse or something. Tenho, he's  _ destroying _ himself.”

“I know, I  _ know _ .” Tenho raised his hands in the air in defense, shaking his head. “We can't do anything about it, Sev has to come around on his own time.”

“And how long is that going to be man? It's been three days and he still hasn't uttered a word about  _ why _ he did it! Why did that bastard mean so much to him?!” 

“I-I don't know,  _ okay?!” _ Tenho snapped, tears forming in his eyes. BJ took a step back at the sudden outburst. Tenho rubbed his eyes furiously with his sleeve. “We're  _ both _ trying our best to get him to turn around, we're trying so hard but we can't rush Sev's healin’ here, dude. It's not only the physical injury of him slittin’ his wrists. His heart is broken, man.”

BJ rolled his eyes, placing his hands in his hips. “ _ Please _ , he's better off without Sho around! That guy was nothing but bad news from the start!”

“That's it!” Tenho exclaimed, eyes widening at the sudden realization. “We should get Sho tk come over!”

“ _ What!? _ ” BJ hollered, catching the secretary at the desk off guard, causing her to drop her papers and regard the duo with a glare and a  _ shh  _ to be quiet.

“You heard me.”

“Why should we contact that bastard?! It's his fault that Sev is even in the hospital!”

Tenho rubbed his temples, his patience growing thin. “Look here dumbass, and get this through your thick self righteous skull- Sho did  _ nothing _ wrong!”

“But he-!”

Tenho interrupted BJ before he could protest any further, his blue eyes glaring like cold ice at his bandmate. 

“Sho fucking  _ cared _ about him! That's more than you can say, you bitter bastard! If you cared about Triple Seven, you wouldn't have chased Sho away! If  _ I  _ cared about him, I-” Tenho paused, his voice cracking. “I wouldn't have let this happen to him. It's my fault too, y'know.

“I don’ know why you did it- I don't care to know. Maybe it was jealousy that you couldn't get a date, maybe you were frustrated that Sev was spending less time with us and more time with Minamimoto; whatever the reason, you  _ still _ hurt them both!” 

“I--” BJ started, before snapping his mouth shut and looking at the ground, hands balling up at his sides as Tenho's words were sinking in like the Titanic sinking after hitting an iceberg of truth.

“Sho  _ never _ tried to steal Sev away from us, he never attacked our friendship, he was  _ part _ of the  _ band _ for fucks sake!” Tenho's voice was cracking more and more with every word, his face falling away from intense anger and into desperation and hurt. “They may have argued, but they were good for each other and that's more than I can say for us an’ Sev.”

“So what do you want me to do about it then,  _ huh _ ? That dude left the city, and Sev couldn't even get a hold of him! What makes you think  _ I _ can?”

‘'Because we have no other choice,” Tenho spat. “Sev isn't going to get better otherwise. That guy in that hospital bed? That isn't  _ our _ Triple Seven.”

BJ was quiet, looking at the ground, guilt gnawing at his stomach. He snapped out of the temporary daze as Tenho shoved the drummers phone into his hands.

“You better start texting Sho right now, or I'll break your goddamn hand.”

BJ looked at the phone, nodding his head slowly. “I'm gonna call outside. I need to clear my head to think about what I'm gonna say t’ that asshat.”

“I'll come with you, just to make sure you don't fuck it up. 'Sides, a nurse should check up  on Sev every now and then t'make sure there aren't... more incidents.”

“ _ Thanks _ ,” BJ grumbled dryly, already making his way down the stairs to the lobby. When the two got there, they were bombarded by the paparazzi, who had gotten wind about 777 being in the hospital. There was questions left, right, and center, with very little room to escape.

“Is it true that the lead singer of your punk band is admitted to this very hospital?”

“What injuries does he have?”

“Is this perhaps related to the previous band member Minamimoto being kicked out of the band two months prior?”

“Did Minamimoto come back and injure Triple Seven out of anger for no longer being part of the band?”

Tenho and BJ shared a nervous glance with each other, taking a step backwards from all the cameras, people and microphones, before forcibly shoving past the crowd and sprinting out the front of the hospital. Shouts of protest followed them.

If they were out, they might as well get their dinner earlier than anticipated, anything to get away from the press and try to call Sho at the same time. 

\---

Day four.

“Anything?” Tenho asked as BJ walked back into the room, looking up from reading a magazine. 

BJ shook his head, sighing. “We'd have better chances at findin’ a unicorn than gettin’ hold of 'im, dude.”

“We have to keep trying.” Tenho muttered, looking at 777, who was asleep as usual. 

“I'm running low on battery, so I gotta charge it before I try for like the fiftieth time today.” BJ rubbed the back of his neck, following Tenho's gaze to 777. “It's almost ironic; he never gets this amount of sleep at home.”

“Because he normally works himself to the bone. He's always occupied with something that needs to get done and he refuses to sleep. But here? What's he going to do besides sleep and check his phone?”

“He hasn't even done the latter.” BJ grumbled, walking over to the small nightstand beside the bed, picking up the singers phone. “It hasn't even been turned on since we gave it to him yesterday.”

“He really is falling apart right in front of our eyes, huh?” Tenho murmured, tossing the magazine onto the small corner table. He's probably read all the magazines at  _ least _ ten times each. 

“I think I'm gonna go home and grab us a change of clothes finally, all we've done is sit with Sev.” BJ said, turning back to Tenho. “Maybe some dry shampoo for you and him. Maybe a nice hot shower for me.”

“I'd appreciate it, thanks. Mind snaggin’ me a novel or two t'keep me occupied?”

“Gotcha. I'll be back in a bit.”

BJ opened up his phone after closing the door behind him, dialing Sho's phone number once again, sighing when the answering machine picked up. 

Back with Tenho, 777 was starting to stir once again, sitting up with a yawn.

“Feeling any better?’ Tenho asked, unable to hide the hope in his voice.

777 looked at his friend with tired eyes, and back to the empty corner of the room. “He really...isn't coming…” 

Tenho was a bit surprised at the croaked words 777 managed to say, especially after not talking until now. “N-no, I'm afraid not. I'm sorry.”

777 looked back down, exhaling sadly. “I don't know why, I hoped he'd be here. I wish he was back.” 

Tenho walked slowly to the blonde, placing his hand on the others shoulder. “It'll be okay.”

“Maybe. Or maybe BJ was right. Maybe Sho didn't care about me as much as I thought.”

“He  _ did.”  _ Tenho insisted, tightening his grip enough to get 777 to look up at him in surprise. His face fell again almost instantly, looking away. 777 placed his hand on top of Tenho's, before pushing it off his shoulder.

“Maybe just leave me  _ alone _ .  _ God _ , you guys are insufferable.”

“We just care about ya, Sev.”

“Can I have some oxygen and space to myself then?  _ Christ _ , I already feel like a prisoner here as it is.”

Tenho frowned, deciding to leave the singer be. He clearly wasn't in the mood to talk about anything, wallowing in his own anger and sadness. Tenho could respect that. He sat down in his seat, scrolling through his phone and occasionally looking at at 777 who was lost in his thoughts staring out the window. So much for progress.

BJ came back into the room, placing a bag on the windowsill. “I grabbed some extra stuff, and stopped by the bakery down the street. You want a muffin or something, Sev?”

“No.” 

“Hey, you're talking again! Nice!” BJ smiled, but stopped when he saw the scowl on 777’s face.

“Yer in th'way of my view.”

BJ shuffled himself over to Tenho's side, dropping a muffin in his lap. “A joy, just like always.”

“Yeah, definitely.” Tenho agreed, unwrapping the muffin and taking a bite out of it. “Any luck with the calls?”

“Not yet. I'm gon’ try again again in a few minutes.” BJ answered, pulling out his phone just to double check in the off chance that there weren't any texts or calls that were returned. Of course, none were.

Quickly eating the last of his baked good, BJ walked into the hallway to attempt again. Tenho followed, and when he was given a questioning glance by BJ, he responded that “Sev needs some space to himself.”

Truth be told, with every missed call BJ was growing more and more doubtful that Sho would even answer, but when he heard a groggy “Who the hell is this?” on the other end, he was  _ glad _ to hear Sho's voice once again, as strange as that was to admit.

“It's BJ--” He felt a twinge of annoyance when the other cut him off. Just let him hurry up and get to the point! He isn't exactly  _ enjoying _ this either.

“BJ?! Thought ya didn't want to do jack shit with me anymore, why the  _ hell _ are you callin’?”

“Sev's in the hospital because he slit his wrists!” BJ blurted out. Fuck him trying to build up to that point, he needed to let Sho know  _ now _ , because at any goddamn second that fucker could hang up on him. BJ almost thought he did, not hearing anything besides the faint crackle of static.

“Hello?”

“I heard ya.” Sho slumped against the wall, his head reeling.  _ Sev's in the hospital _ kept playing over and over again in his head, unable to fully process the information. “And…? What do ya want me to do about it? Did ya just call to bitch over the phone or somethin’, because just get it  _ over _ with then, I don't have all day and you guys gotta go back to lookin’ after Sev!”

“I- what?!  _ NO!” _ BJ shouted suddenly, catching the stares of anyone walking through the hospital halls. He grunted, receiving an elbow to the ribcage and a glare from Tenho because of it. 

“I just wanted to let ya know about it an’, an’ I'm sorry about being an asshole t'ya and Sev. It wasn't my place to be such a jerk to you guys, I've been a shitty friend and I'm sure you can agree. Ya can punch me as hard as ya want when ya come over. I deserve it.

_ “If, _ if ya come over.” BJ corrected himself, shuddering out a sigh. “It would mean th’World to Sev if ya could see him again. He misses you.”

Sho was quiet, taking it all in. Really, Sev wanted to see  _ him  _ after everything that happened? He really shouldn't have counted his chickens before they hatched; he really expected that the two of these losers would be able to take care of the biggest loser in the group. Of  _ course _ , it all went to shit after he left!

“...What good will showin' up do? Half the shit he said to me wasn't a lie… Sev should’a been  better off without me, man. I don't even know if I can even look at him, especially layin’ in a hospital bed...”

"Shut up. He's not better without you; he misses you so fuckin' much dude! You made him happy, I've never seen him smile so much than when he was with you. I wanna see Sev to  _ smile _ again."

Sho ran a hand through his hair. Was 777 really that happy with him? He doubted that people were even capable of feeling that way about him. To a handful, he wasn't anything more than a one night stand. Why would he mean so much to 777, and why now of all times? 777 shouldn't still want to see him...and on the other side of the coin, Sho shouldn't still want to see 777.

"Haven't you been checking his texts, dumbass? Voicemails? Do you know how many times I tried callin’ you to tell ya this? Do ya know how many times  _ Seven _ tried callin’ to tell ya this?”

“The hell am I  _ supposed _ to think? You really think I wanna pick up the phone and look at the texts and get a sick reminder each and  _ every _ time? Don't make me laugh; nothin’ good would have come out of it anyways. You wanted me gone, so I  _ left _ .” Sho hissed, his hand clenching on the phone. 

A part of him wanted to just hang up, leave and never have to worry about what would happen again. The other part of the him won over. The part that was concerned, the part that wanted to hear more of what BJ wanted to say. It was the same part of him that wanted to see 777 again, as  _ gross _ as it was to even admit. “ _ What _ the hell do you want from me, BJ? Do you  _ really _ want me to just  _ show up _ there?”

“Yes.” BJ swallowed his pride and annoyance with an immediate response. “Yes, I do, asshole! I want you back because Sev wants you back! Forget him wantin’ you back, he  _ needs _ you back.

“Tenho and I? We just want the best for Seven. And right now the best is  _ you _ .”

There was a heartbeat of silence before Sho answered. “I'll think about it.” 

Then he hung up.

BJ took the phone away from his ear, looking at the ‘Call Ended’ screen in disdain.

“So?” Tenho asked, his voice hopeful. “What did he say?”

“Well, before that bastard  _ hung up _ on me, he said he'll think about it.”

“I guess that's the least he could do.”

Sho slid down the wall, sitting down to sort through his thoughts. He  _ shouldn't _ go see 777,  _ especially _ if he was the root reason why that dumbass even ended up in the hospital in the first place! But...but he  _ wanted _ to see that nerd again.  _ Fuck _ .

\---

Sho stood in the elevator of the hospital, wondering what he'd even say to 777 when he got there. Should he apologize, wait for 777 to say something? Letting out a yawn, he noted that he was lucky to catch the last plane of the night that was travelling to Tokyo. He would have gotten more sleep if it wasn't for some tourists damn kid crying. After that, it was a quick nap at the airport until the taxi service started again. 

He was lucky enough that he saw Tenho and BJ at the cafe on the ground floor. It meant that he wouldn't have to interact with them for a while, at least.

Sho exited the elevator, and made his way to 777’s room, standing nervously outside of it.  _ Well, there's no going back now, _ Sho thought to himself, taking in a deep breath to calm his nerves. He pushed open the door, sitting on the empty chair beside the bed.

Looking at 777 made Sho's chest hurt. He looked so frail laying on the bed, IV, bandages and all. Did he lose weight? He certainly was more pale than before.

His thoughts were interrupted when 777 began to stir, sitting up and stretching his arms. He looked lazily in Sho's direction, stiffening before he rubbed his eyes furiously, just to make sure he wasn't still dreaming. A grin stretched across his face, instantly adding more life to him.

“...Sho…”

“Hey.” Sho smiled softly in greeting. “It's a 'bout time you woke up, Frankenstein. Ya don't usually wake up this early, or look so alive in the morning fer  _ that _ matter. Sleep that good or somethin’?”

“Like, there isn't much to do beyond sleep in this hygienic hellhole. Wouldn't hurt if the beds were more comfortable, either.”

Sho reached out, running his fingers loosely through 777’s hair along his scalp, chuckling to himself. Wow, it really  _ was _ messier up close like this. It was so flat and  _ lame _ now, where did the shine go? 

“I'll brush it when I get out of this place.” 777 laughed, playfully swatting Sho's hand away. He reached for the hand again, lacing his fingers around Sho's, gently holding his hand. 

“Forgot how long yer hair is without all that gel in it makin’ ya look like a porcupine, heh.” Sho let out a soft laugh, mildly amused. He looked at their hands, gently squeezing 777’s hands, before looking back up at him. “So...ya feelin’ any better?”

777 smiled. “Yeah...I mean, yer here now…”

Sho stuck out his tongue. God, why was he always so  _ cheesy _ ?! “I didn't come back fer this dumb mushy stuff, an’ you know it!”

777 rolled his eyes, letting out a laugh. “ _ Please _ , you knew it was bound to happen eventually. You  _ love _ it.”

“Why're you always so  _ gross _ ?” Sho groaned at his friend. “Whatever, I'm  _ still _ gonna kiss your dumb fuckin’ face.”

Before 777 was able to protest, Sho's lips were already pressed against his own. It was a sweet kiss, one that the singer was immediately lost in. He missed the familiarity of it.

BJ cleared his throat, causing Sho and 777 to quickly split apart, cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment.

“You know, hospitals aren't  _ usually _ a place for romance.” BJ rolled his eyes, before turning to Sho. “Glad to see yer back, I guess.”

“Glad to be back, less glad to see you. Though…” Sho trailed off, eyeing the paper bag in his hands. “If you got a breakfast sandwich of some sort, I'll call it even.”

“We got bagels and muffins because it's cheap.” BJ dryly announced, placing the bag on the small table. “Want some still?”

“Eh, guess I'll pass.” Sho shrugged. 

“Toss me somethin’.” 777 smiled. “I think I'm gettin’ my appetite back. 'Sides, hospital food is so fuckin’ gross.”

“I'll personally shove it down your throat if you come in here for anything other than a broken bone.” Sho threatened, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. He was  _ partially _ teasing, at least.

“Roger that.” 777 grumbled, rolling his eyes as he bit into a muffin, chewing thoughtfully. “Hey...Sho?”

“Yeah?”

“...Are ya gonna stick around?” 777 asked, glancing away and then back at Sho. He really didn't want to get his hopes up about anything. If Sho was just here for a visit, he would be okay with that, though he would still be sad knowing Sho would leave at the end.

“Eh, I mean I was planning on staying around 'till you got better, I guess. Most of my shit's still in another city. And anything else BJ tossed to the curb.” Sho glared at BJ, who Rose his hands in defense.

“It's in the storage room, actually. Sev was stubborn about throwin’ your shit out, so ya got 'im to thank for that at least.”

Sho sighed, shoulders drooping. “I'd end up bein’ more broke than I already am. Moving back an’ fourth between cities ain't cheap, you know. Why, ya want me back or something?”

“Kinda, sorta, maybe…” 777 trailed off, smiling sheepishly. “Yes?” 

“We could help pay for some of the expenses!” Tenho suggested. BJ shot him a glare, but ended up keeping his mouth shut. He knew he didn't get a say in the matter; it wasn't like he had anything  _ nice  _ to say either, so one might as well stay quiet.

“I don't know…” Sho ran a hand through his hair. He was still unsure about his stance with 777, now more than ever. He doubted he would be able to move back with the band anytime soon. Maybe he could room with his ex Kariya and his annoying pink haired roommate? Sho wasn't entirely sure how that would go over with 777, knowing how easily he could get jealous. 

“Please?” 777 asked, giving Sho tearful puppy dog eyes.

“H-hey now! Don't give me that look!” Sho shouted.  _ Damn _ , he really hated when 777 looked at him like that. It was oddly cute for the singer, and hard to resist for Sho. “ _ Ugh _ , okay,  _ fine _ ! I'll come back; I can't leave Tenho alone with you two idiots!”

“I'm going to let that comment slide only this once…” BJ grumbled, crossing his arms.

The smile that spread across 777’s face was definitely worth the answer Sho gave. Screw him and his pretty face. 

Whatever, 777 would just have to deal with it until things got sorted out at least. Maybe you everyone would be able to bond or something. 777 could do with a few new friends in his circle, probably.

Sho couldn't deny that he felt a sense of relief knowing that the two of them were on better terms. Of course, sorting everything out would still be rocky to start off with, but things should hopefully smooth out. Maybe things will work between them this time around...

“Sho?” 777 asked.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For… for what? We've been a hot mess, honestly.”

“For giving me,  _ us, _ a second chance. Thank you. I'm so happy you're back.” 777 smiled, tears forming in his eyes that were immediately wiped away. 

“Hey,” whispered Sho, placing a kiss on the singer's head. “I'm happy to be back, but that doesn't mean it's something to  _ cry _ about.”

“Sorry, sorry.” 777 apologized, wiping the remaining tears away with the back of his hands. “I'm just  _ so _ happy.”

Things  _ will _ work out.


End file.
